


Sleep a Thousand Years

by joukaimokie



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Spoilers, ending spoilers, past depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 16:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6058590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joukaimokie/pseuds/joukaimokie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once all Mikleo wanted to do was sleep, but now it is the last thing he wanted. Unfortunately old habits die hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep a Thousand Years

**Author's Note:**

> Because sometimes fluff is needed as is something short as a break, and I really can't feel right posting a new chapter of Lux Et Tenbrae so quickly (yes the chapter is actually about halfway done). 
> 
> Disclaimer: Tales of Zestiria does not belong to me and I am making no money from this.

When he had been nothing but a child he had never been aware that sleep was something he never needed. It was just natural, like breathing, even if they did it for Sorey. Sleep was a blessed escape, one he wished he could had partaken in for centuries. He wished he could force himself to sleep only to awaken when Sorey did once again. 

But that had been a foolish desire, almost as foolish as the refusal to remain Lailah’s sublord. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bind with anyone but Sorey. His loyalty remained with him and him alone. He would wait for however long it took the Shepherd to wake once again. And so when he could he slept, when Rose did not read his assistance. All too often Edna and Zavied dragged him from his eternal desired sleep. 

After the loss of Rose even his assistance was rare. His heart had turned to ice to avoid the pain. No longer did he control the appearance he so painstakingly kept the same. Even as the others remained the same he let himself change. A hundred, two hundred years, his heart frozen in time. He forced himself to sleep for as long as he could. Wakefulness was only punctuated by times in the bed that had once been Sorey’s. He didn’t move from it, didn’t even care for himself. He only lay there unmoving until finally sleep claimed him again. 

But he had been forced out. He had been forcefully dragged, shaken until the realization set in. Hair hung in his face, sticking to his skin. Several centuries of controlling nothing, letting his mind take its course. He didn’t try to stay the same, let his perception change him into what he had become. He had needed that reminder. 

Needed to be reminded of his promise to live their dream out as unpleasant as it was. The promise dragged him from his sleep, forced him to rise into the sun. How long had it been since any had seen him? He didn't know. The residents watched him closely, almost apprehensive to say anything. 

But now sleep was the enemy. A habit that he tried to deny before his schedule slid back into place. He hated sleep, hated the thoughts that hoovered every time he opened his eyes after they had finally closed unbidden. But the fears were unfounded, ever since the warmth melted the ice chiseled around his heart. And as they did every morning fingers dragged through his hair. 

“You’re not going to win.” 

“Win what?” 

“You’ll never catch up with sleep.” 

Mikleo stretched and reached down as he pushed himself up. Perception was truly a curse. If only he could figure out a way for his mind not to remind him that his body should ache. Because as soon as the unconscious thought appeared it certainly did ache. It reminded him that the stone floors of ruins were not the best place to sleep. 

“You turned into an old man on me,” The smile beamed just like he remembered, and Mikleo knew that ice would never be able to form in his presence. He would never want it to. 

“Like you’re not sore.” 

“Not really,” Sorey looked down at him as he reached out and his hand closed around the gloved one. “Guess you really are just getting old.” 

“Keep it up and next time I’ll go to sleep for a millennium and you can wait around.” 

Sorey’s laughter was as contagious as ever and the warmth that had flooded every inch since he saw him again only seemed to grow stronger. Sorey gripped his other hand and gave a firm pull, dragging Mikleo to his feet. His body complained at the change of position and instinctively he leaned heavily on his staff as his body tried to adjust to the change of position. 

“So that’s why you use a staff, so you can have a walking stick!” 

“You know-!“ Mikleo sighed, exasperated, as his head dropped but still he couldn’t really be angry with Sorey. He took a step forward and made to shove him back before his body protested at the shift of weight. Feet stumbled but just as every time before Sorey was right there to catch him. Even if he fell in the process he never failed. The strong grip always grasped him tightly. 

Arms wrapped around him as Mikleo let himself sink against Sorey’s chest, the texture of the fabric so familiar. Even now he had never been able to forget these small things. The weight of Sorey’s arms around him, the warmth of his body, the feel of the fabric of his shirt, the scent that was so completely him. 

“I thought water was supposed to be graceful. You’re getting clumsier. Guess it really is old age, huh.” 

One hand was brought against Sorey’s chest as he laughed and Mikleo tilted his head up. Even his eyes seemed to laugh. He was the same, the same as he had always been. A millennium couldn’t change that. 

Mischievousness flickered in the violet eyes for a moment and Sorey opened his mouth to say something more. “I’ll show you old,” Mikleo muttered under his breath as he leaned in. Gloved fingers buried into the short chestnut hair, unable to feel it against the fabric, and lips pressed firmly against Sorey’s. 

He always tasted the same, like the fresh morning air that spread a warmth through him. His lips tingled with the feel of the warm lips against his own as arms wrapped around him. They were comfortable, familiar, and they pulled him firmly into the embrace. 

Even far away from anything familiar it felt like home. But it had always been that way. Sorey was home and that was something no one would take away from him again. Even sleep.


End file.
